Originally, this chapter was angst-ridden as Simon talks about the drawbacks of being a vampire, never having a chance to have a family of his own, and how one day he'll have to leave Clary because he doesn't want to watch her die. Now he just talks about his relationship with Isabelle! ^_^
Three months later, Clary was standing in front of a full-length mirror, wriggling into a white sundress that finished just below her knees. It was made to fit the bump around her middle, and it was one of the few pieces of clothing she owned that didn't make her feel huge. She was told that she actually had a very small baby bump for someone six months along, but that didn't seem to help. None of her old clothes fitted apart from a couple of shirts and a pair of denim overalls.
"You know, you look fantastic no matter what you wear," said Jace, glancing at her from the bed. "Particularly," he added, "if you wear nothing."
Clary grinned, and sidled back to the bed. She was too big to skip now, but sidling was manageable.
Jace loved her bump. He seemed to be telling her how amazing she looked now even more than when she was slight and skinny. She would never forget the look on his face when he first saw the tiny bulge between her hipbones, or how amazed he'd been as he kissed her tummy and felt something move, for the first time. She knew he had felt left out at first, when only she could feel the baby inside. Being able to see it, touch it, made it so much more real to him.
When she had first met Jace, fitted all in black and attitude, he was busy skewering a demon in dank nightclub. It had been impossible then, to imagine him him as anything remotely vulnerable. Now, she saw him as a glass lion, beautiful and terrifying on the outside, but made of something so fragile under all his fur and fangs.
The moment he felt movement inside her, he had whispered something so softly that Clary was surprised she could even hear it. He rested for a moment, his cheek pressed against her bare skin, his arms wrapped around her waist like it was a pillar, holding him up. For the shortest of seconds, it was like he had forgotten she existed.
"My baby," he had said, and then looked up at Clary like he was proposing all over again.
She had always known, ever since they became a couple, and possibly even before then, that Jace needed her. It was only recently she was becoming increasingly away of how much. And with that awareness came fear -that fear in the back of her mind, gaining size now that another person was depending on her entirely- that made her wonder what would happen to Jace if something happened to her.
She had known, however briefly, what it was like to be without him. The reality of it had barely sunk in before he was returned to her, but even in that short space of time, she had promised herself, that however horrible, that she was resolved to carry on without him. Because he would want her to.
Jace, she knew, would do the same, but she also knew that so much of him would fall apart if she died that what was left behind of Jace could be irreparable.
She had told him when she used her wish to bring him back, "I don't want anything else in the world." That was true. All she wanted was Jace -and now their child- to be safe and happy. But there was so much more that she needed in the world.
For her, she wanted Jace more than she needed him. For Jace, want and need came in ample and equal measure.
If my baby is a girl, we can both worry about him together. If it's a boy... well, I suppose I have enough worry to go around.
Everyone kept asking them what they were having, as if they were almost honour-bound to find out, but Clary wanted it to be a surprise and didn't think it mattered too much, anyway. Whatever Jace said about him being a "questionable role model for a son" she knew he would be fine either way.
Another part of her didn't want to know just in case something happened, as if the baby could be snatched away as easily as the cherubim children in her dreams. She kept having nightmares, only once in a while, about winged children being chased by demons and nameless rune marks carved in blood staining the floor. She had not had dreams since Ithuriel, and so she had no reason to be concerned. She put it down to stress and pushed it to the back of her mind.
Clary was going was to visit Simon. She hadn't seen him in weeks, and figured she was overdue for some chilling time. After all, in a few months, she doubted she'd have much time to hang out with him at all.
He opened the door to her wearing a dark tee-shirt with the words "Team Vampire" printed across the chest. Clary laughed. She'd given in to him years ago as a joke, not expecting him to wear it.
"Isabelle about?" she asked.
Simon shook his head. "Morocco again," he said, his eyes a little dark.
"Girl can't sit still for a moment." Clary stepped inside and pulled off her coat, dropping it over the back of the couch.
"Dear God," said Simon, "you're huge."
"Cheers, Simon. Nice to see you too."
"Sorry," he said, not really sounding it, "I'm just not used to you being so... round."
"I've been told I'm unusually petite for a pregnant woman, actually. My ankles aren't swollen. My face is isn't huge. My ass is still-"
"Did I say huge? Sorry, I meant gorgeous."
"Better."
"If slightly delusional and crazed."
"I hate you."
"Hormones?"
"Give me coffee, pizza and TV, and I may just forgive you before I die."
"I thought you weren't meant to drink that stuff?"
"My healer advised me that I could have one cup a day. Of course, I never drink it around the house. Jace stares at me like I'm poisoning the baby-"
"Shadowhunter finally found something else to obsess about?"
"Apparently. I almost can't wait until this baby is out of me. He can wrap it in cotton wool instead."
"Great," said Simon tonelessly, as Clary nestled against the couch, folding her legs under her. He tossed her the remote.
"Cheers," she said, and started to flick through the DVD collection.
"I'll grab you a pizza."
He didn't need to ask her want she wanted. He fished out her favourite from the collection in his freezer, and then joined her on the couch, stretching his legs out under the coffee table.
They watched some crazy sitcom for half an hour, speaking only to laugh. Simon got up halfway through to grab the pizza. He piled it all on one plate, taking only a couple of slices for himself. Clary devoured the rest, waiting for Simon's "eating for two" comment that never came. He was unusually quiet.
"Simon, is something wrong?"
"Why would you say that?"
"Because I'm your best friend and parabatai and I know when something's bothering you?"
Simon sighed.
"Is it Isabelle?"
Simon gave her a look as if she'd suddenly developed the ability to read minds. "Why would you say-? Did she say something?"
"She wouldn't need to," Clary said, carefully dodging the truth, "you're edgy enough."
Simon groaned and rolled his face into a nearby pillow. "She's never here," he said. "It's so stupid. She's always racing off over the world and-"
"So why don't you go with her?"
Simon paled a little. "We don't... we don't fight so well together," he said, "not after we became a couple. We were just constantly doing stupid stuff to save each other-"
Clary remembered a big argument the two of them had had, several years ago now, shortly after Simon became her parabatai. She remembered Alec making a remark, about how Simon didn't act like a parabatai should- his thoughts were not on Clary.
"You could still go with her, when she travels-"
"I don't like travelling," Simon protested. "I've been somewhere once and I'm happy. I like home comforts. Moving to Idris was bad enough. Why can't she be happy with that? I mean, what if, at some point..." his voice trailed off, his eyes dropping to Clary.
"What if, what?" she asked.
Simon gestured towards her middle. "You know!" he said.
"What if... she was pregnant?"
"Yeah. Someday. Possibly. In the future. It can't be just the two of us forever. I don't want it to be just the two of us forever. I may not be the most attentive boyfriend in the world, but I just... I like having her here. But... but I don't want to stand in the way of her dreams, either."
"Oh, god!" Clary rolled her eyes, picking up the nearest throw cushion and hurling it in his face, "You two really need to DTR."
"Again?" Simon groaned. "We did that a few years ago."
"Exactly. You need to reappraise every few years or so. Especially after you're officially adults. Only so long you can play the 'we're too young' card."
"You think?"
"Yes, Simon!"
Simon sighed, even more audibly than before. "All right," he said, and then he leapt to his feet. "I have something for you," he said quickly. "I'll go grab it."
He disappeared into the bedroom, leaving Clary hanging, and came back moments later with a flat, square package. "Here."
Clary took it suspiciously, rattling it first.
"It's not a bomb!" Simon said, with the first hint of a laugh. "Go on, open up."
She peeled back the wrapping. It was a baby book, with a white cover and fancy gold writing. On the first page was a picture, a tacky, straw-coloured acrylic of four stick-figures with crazy hair and round eyes. It was labelled with big, childish letters "My Family" with big black names next to each of the people- "Mommy, Luke, Me, Simon."
"That's-" Clary knew this picture. She knew it because she'd drawn it, a long, long time ago. "You kept this?"
Simon nodded slowly. "Always."
Clary looked back at the page and imagined another child, her child, drawing something similar, with a much bigger Simon standing in his old place. It occurred to her that any baby she had would have more people than this. Clary had only ever had the three of them.
"Getting ready to be an uncle, parabatai?" she said, trying to hide the emotion in her voice.
Simon groaned. "You're lucky I managed to convince Isabelle that this was an appropriate gift. It was going to pink-leopard baby clothes, otherwise."
Clary rolled her eyes. "Ugh, really? It might be a boy!"
"Isabelle's all for equality."
Clary smiled, and leaned across to hug him. "Thanks, Simon," she said. "It's perfect."